Anya
by readerwriterdancer
Summary: This is a re-imagining of the story of Anastasia. A lot like Fox's version but it explores the motivations and desires of other secondary characters. Told in a multi person point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**Anya**

"Yo, Anya, pass the bread. "-Leo yelled. Although he was only a couple of seats away from her and in the blind, he still had the tendency to talk abnormally loud, so much in fact, that it always seemed like he was yelling. Anya, her mind elsewhere, handed him the ratchet ass piece of bread without saying a word or even glancing up. Leo, noticing this, mumbled, "Really Anya, I know how desperate you are to leave this hell hole, but today's your last day so you might as well try to relate well to others." To which Anya replied, "Leo, how many times have we gone over this, I only speak when there is something worth saying. Really, it's like you don't know me at all. "

"That's exactly why I'm saying this Anya, I know you. You tend to brood when there is a big change coming instead of being your cheerful, chipper self. Relax, home girl and enjoy the present." Either Leo was on something or Anya was hearing incorrectly. _Cheerful and chipper? _Who describes people as chipmunks? Anya was sure that cheerful and chipper were the last words on the earth that could ever describe her. Still, it could be worse. She would miss his face and ginger hair, but it was time to move one. She loved them all but felt stifled as of late. Her mind flashed vivid images of all those she would leave behind; Leo, little Tommy, and her matron Osley.

Besides, the only mystery worth finding was contained inside her book and under the floorboards. She couldn't search it out here. If she started asking questions here, who knows what would happen? She wouldn't make that mistake twice. Anya swallowed_ ._

_ She remembered that the day she was found was the day she decided to let go of her formal self. Whether consciously or not, she buried all the remains of her formal life and decided that the world would be a better place to be if she was more observant and less chatty. She had gotten so good at forgetting that her only remaining link to her past was hidden in her necklace that was inside her book and under the floorboards. She didn't even remember why she decided to keep it, but she did and now that she was leaving, she was glad she did_.

To Leo she said, "Astute observation, Waston, but I'm not brooding. I am just ingraining this moment and converting it into memory. "Anya stared at the plate of food in front of her, a half-eaten apple, toast and water. This was good. A simple breakfast. Nothing special to remind her of the daunting task ahead, no special treatment. Anya half smiled as she stood up, satisfied.

A while later Anya walks out, her belongings slung over her shoulder and her "Together in Paris" necklace laying over her neck. Matron Osley is with her, blathering instructions, "When you get to the fork in the road, go left, towards the fish factory. That's where your destiny lies. Or, at least the job I've lined up for you." While she is speaking, Anya is waving at her fellow orphans, stuck in this system since the day of their birth. Her hand is tiring from waving at everyone she knows but since this is the last time she will, conceivably, see them, she doesn't care. Little Tommy, the little sibling that she never had and would miss most, apart from Leo, runs up to her, his little legs carrying him until he catches up . "Annnnya, don't go. Don't go Annnnya." He hugs her leg tightly as he says this, wailing loudly. Anya crouches down to his level and looks earnestly at his face "Tommy, my dear boy, the adventure is only beginning. I'm going to go and you will be great, you will be the best and most wonderful little Tommy I know you are. You are going to make great friends and live to be one hundred. I will be there when you become the greatest inventor that ever lived. But I have to say goodbye to you for a short while okay kiddo?" Tommy looks up at her, eyes melancholy and teary, and barely manages an indiscernible nod. Anya, seeing him as he is, a young bright boy with such a great future and such a wonderful person, is overcome with love for him at that moment and places a hand on his shoulder asking gently, "Will you be the best Tommy you can be? " Tommy smiles at her and through his last stray tear answers, "Yes Anya, I will be. I will make you proud. "Tommy lets go of her then, gives her a soldier's salute, and runs off. Anya stands up, a small smile on her face and resumes walking, saying goodbye to everyone she sees, even those that had barely arrived today to the orphanage.

Matron Osley, interrupting her goodbyes, says, "Are you even listening Anya?" Anya, without skipping a beat, replied, "I'm listening, Matron Osley," but continues to mouth her goodbyes and looks over Matron while doing so.

Matron, fed up with Anya, stops walking, puts out to arm to physically stop Anya and says,

"No Anya, you are clearly not listening, after all these years that I've fed you, clothed you –" Anya, rolling her eyes, interrupts, "Kept a roof over my head,"

Matron, exasperated, makes a noise and says "How is it, that you don't have a clue to who you were before you came to us, "

"I do have a clue to-," Anya motions to her necklace for Matron to see.

Matron takes it in her hands reads, "Argh, Together in Paris. So, you want to go to France to find your family.. ah huh?"

"That's the idea, yes."

Matron gives her a disgusted look and says, "Well, miss Anya, it's time to take your place in line, in life and in line. And be grateful too." By then, they've reached the gate and Matron opens the gate to let her go, giving her a gentle push out.

They depart. Anya takes a few steps before she looks back and yells, "I am grateful, GRATEFUL TO GET AWAY!" Hearing this Matron sighs and smirks thinking, _she's had a lot here but she's a full woman grown and must make her own mistakes. As for the inscription on her necklace __**Together in Paris**__, this girl is delusional. Her family left her, not the other way around. All that will happen when she finds them is pain and heartbreak._ _Oh Anya, you foolish child, I will miss you._

* * *

Anya trudged through the snow, her feet getting wetter the longer she walked. Her thin boots had a hole and though she hadn't mentioned it to Matron Osley, she was in dire need of them. She knew that if she asked for new boots before she left, the money that would have been used to buy it would have come from the food money, reducing significantly the amount of food the rest of the orphans could eat for a whole week. She didn't want to subject her fellow orphans to a week with less than enough food. So she dealt with it. But she was desperately cold now, she could feel her lips turning blue and frost lay on her eye brows and hair. She didn't know it but she was an hour away from developing hypothermia and two hours away from freezing to death. To motivate herself from falling asleep in the snow, Anya thought of Paris, the family that she didn't remember, and the puzzle that was her necklace. She knew she had to figure it out. There wasn't any time to rest and stay cold.

After what seemed like an eternity, Anya reached a crossroads. There were two signs. One read, _Fishing and other enterprises: __**Alloway Village. **_The other simply read, "St. Petersburg." And although she didn't know it then, the choice that she made here would take her on a path that she could never have anticipated in a million years. Anya stared at the two signs, knowing exactly where she was supposed to go, as Matron had drilled it into her head. Alloway Village had job opportunities and Matron had arranged for her to find a man by the name of Quimby who would give her a job in his fish factory. So the logical and responsible thing for her to do was to take the path to the left pointing towards it. But the more Anya thought about it, the more she was convinced that if she chose that way, she would be trapped working there forever- she would live, marry, and die there. She could never discover the truth about her family and could never ask them the question that was forefront on her mind, _why? _So, against her better judgment, or, following her heart, whatever way you choose to think about it, she chose right. And although Anya felt the biting cold on her face and body, she smiled. _At least_, she thought, _if I die from the cold here, I can say that I died figuring out the truth. _And, as an afterthought she added, _but there is no way I am dying anytime soon. This is not the time to think such things. I must move on forward. _

Now, I don't know how Anya survived the rest of the trek to St. Petersburg. Her pure determination and stubbornness must have been at work for she was dead on her feet by the time she got to the city. Anya saw the city lights and smoke coming out of a chimney of an inn and thought, "I've made it." She collapsed then, feeling almost warm, as if the winter decided to envelop her in its arms like a mother comforting its child before falling asleep. Had it not been for the innkeeper's young daughter, Anya might have frozen to death there. As it stood, she wasn't found until half an hour later, on the verge of death but providence must have been with her.

As you will see, farther along, providence is usually with Anya, gathering her in its arms and lending a hand from time to time through the many people that she associates with. This is the first of those times.

"Dada, look!" The girl, either eight or nine, I can't remember which, called out to her father. "She's so blue. What's wrong with her dada?" She pointed towards her.

The girl's father reached her in a matter of moments. He followed her finger towards who she was pointing at. Well, you can imagine what Anya looked like then. And he saw it. And in the split second after his daughter asked what was wrong with her, he decides. He would help her. "She's very, very cold," he answered her. "I want you to listen to me very carefully okay? It is extremely important that you call your mother here right away. We need to get her…" he motioned to Anya, "inside the house right away and your mother can help get a fire going in the fireplace. Please run inside and tell your mother what you saw. "

The girl, hearing the underlying urgency in his voice, does what he asks without question.

* * *

**Dymitri**

After lunch, it's decided that they are giving up this foolish quest of theirs, noting that even if they found a respectable actress, the actress has to look the part as well as play it well. Both Dym and Vlad have actress friends who impersonate well but look nothing like a fair headed ginger with blue-gray eyes and an Alexandrian chin. Makeup and hair dye can hide some of these facts, but they want to be thorough enough so that there isn't any hints of suspicion. And sadly, they reached the end of the line. Still, Vlad had to keep his friend's spirits up. He was his friend's rock and it was his responsibility to make sure that Dym continued on. He was still recovering, after all. So after a meager lunch, both friends started walking out of the dilapidated building where they held all their auditions and where, although Dym wouldn't admit it, he lived.

"You know what big guy? I really think that Natalia could pull her off man. Nat has a similar physique and from a distance she could have red hair. She's also a very convincing liar and can cry on the spot. "

"Why didn't I think of that? That's a great idea. There is a lot of potential there for her and when we're done she can also take a share of the reward money."

Dym, now visibly excited with this possibility chats amiably and enthusiastically about Nat and what she could do, how she could impersonate her and such.

As Dym talks, he flaps his hands as a natural instinct, and continues on "of course we'll need to dye her hair, and her eyes are a little dark but those are all things that can be fixed. Vlad, we're getting somewhere now. All we—"

Dymitri bumps into a street urchin as he speaks. He ignores her but she says,

"Oii… watch it. It's a small street."

Barely glancing down toward her, Dym replies, "sorry" and kepps walking. He doesn't notice her amber flecked, gray-blue eyes flash in annoyance towards him for his blatant disregard of _not paying attention to where he was going. _

Vlad, however, does glance at her and can't help thinking that she looks somewhat familiar, for a stranger, at least. He can't exactly place why she looks familiar but the moment passes and they walk off.


	2. Part II

Part II

Author's Note:

Please enjoy this section. I had a lot of trouble deciding what to write about and dialogue writing is more difficult than I thought it would be but I tried my best. At this point Anya is recovering from frostbite and Dmytri, well.. you'll see. If you can, I would also appreciate a review, even if it is something minor. I read them all. Thanks.

**Anya**

As she lay in the bed laid out for her breathing shallowly, Anya wondered why she was there. She couldn't comprehend why she was lying on a bed when she had a whole world to explore, to discover, and to figure out its secrets. The last thing she remembered was looking into a little girl's face and the little girl's father running to her before she was enveloped by the snowy blizzard. And now here she was, laying on an unfamiliar, yet extremely comfortable bed. Puzzled, Anya tried to sit up but her body was still weak. She gritted her teeth and forced herself a little higher.

She was sitting in a semi bare room lit by two candles, a plain brown dresser and a closet. There was no window. Anya didn't remember making any noise upon awakening but she must have as she heard the platter of footsteps coming closer to where she was. 'Hmm,' she thought, 'this is good. I have a chance to thank these wonderful people for their generosity.' There was a timid knock on the door, followed by a woman voice, "Are you alright dearie? Awake? May I come in?" Anya nodded, then, realizing the woman couldn't see her called back, "Yes." The woman walked in and Anya observed her quietly. She noticed her bare worn shoes, the little lines on her face, her rough calloused hands, and lastly, her huge enthusiastic smile. Anya guessed she must be a mother. She looked like a mother ought to look, caring and open. The woman spoke again, "The good night's rest has done you well, dearie, and you've much improved since yesterday night when Richard and I brought you in."

"Thank you, m-" Anya caught herself, "What should I call you?"

The woman laughed, "My name's Elaine, but you can call me mother if you so wish. I don't mind. I have heard them all." She paused for a moment, "Your name?"

Anya briefly considered telling her that she was no one, just another orphan off the system, trying to make her way in the world but reconsidered quickly. This woman and her family saved her from frostbite after all. It was the least she could do. "I'm Anya, I… well, got lost you see, in the middle of that blizzard, and well, I wasn't prepared."

Elaine raised an eyebrow, "When Richard brought you in you were so blue that I wasn't even sure you would make it. But you're fine now dearie and you'll be up and yourself in a couple of hours."

"I don't want to be an inconvenience," began Anya, but Elaine cut in,

"Oh no dear don't worry you aren't an inconvenience. You can stay as long as you like. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to fetch your meal and the rest of my family." And she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Anya looked a little startled at her abrupt departure and stared at the door for a few seconds. She attempted to sit up again, this time successfully. Elaine was right, she was feeling a lot better, considering. _But I can't stay here_, she thought, _I have to find a way to express my gratitude but I can't stay._

**Dmytri**

"So, you'll do it?"

"Hold on, Dmytri, if I understand you correctly, you're proposing that I impersonate the "lost" princess? And if we succeed, I'll get a share of the profit?"

"Yes. 70-30 split."

"And since I'm doing most of the work, I'll take it that I receive the seventy percent."

"Actually, no. You're getting the thirty percent."

"Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly? Only 30 percent?" She scoffs, "you aren't the one that has to fool both the dowager queen and the rest of the world." She lights a cigarette and continues, "I want the sixty percent."

"Thirty." Dmytri's jaw sets. Natalie, earlier visibly relaxed and poised, now narrows her eyes. In a carefully measured tone she says, "Not even giving me the courtesy of negotiating my salary, Dmytri?"

Dmytri's face is blank, impassive. He doesn't say anything but merely stares back at her. When it is clear that he isn't going to answer, she tries once more, "Sixty then?"

"No." Dmytri says, with such finality that she knows he won't budge. She knows that it is hopeless to argue but tries once last time, "Fifty?"

"Thirty. I won't say it again. It is my only offer."

"Fine, no deal. You know, I thought I had you figured out. But I guess you can never tell when someone's greed will cloud their judgment." Her hands ball into fists but she releases them slowly and with great difficulty.

"And here I was, thinking you were such a saint, with a large family to take care of, so of course you should be selfless." She pauses, concentrating on her next words, "but you are no different from the rest, just greed and bones, the lot of you. Silly of me to have hoped otherwise."

Dmytri was prepared to hear her lash out in anger but not like this. Not this controlled fury and cold eyes, scrutinizing him like a bug under a microscope. He knows she is right but he can't back down. The money isn't actually for him but she doesn't know that. She mustn't know. It's better to take the verbal anger than go into any detail about his family's situation. Better for her to think him a greedy fool than actually be one.

"Can I just ask you one question?" Her voice is level once again, any trace of bitterness gone. Now her tone is inquisitive and probing.

"Uh sure." Dmytri answers uncertainly.

"Why did you come to ask me if you weren't willing to negotiate? Surely you knew the answer I was going to give? You didn't think I would say yes to that ridiculously low-cut of the profit?" Her tone is incredulous now, "What would have happened to me if we had pulled it off anyway? I would have had to live a lie for the rest of my life."

"But there are perks. All the wealth in the world, the-"

She cuts him off, sarcasm heavily hinting in her voice, "Oh yea, I forgot, MONEY. Because MONEY is going to solve everything isn't it? MONEY is going to help keep my parents quiet, to conveniently "forget" I exist."

"I.." Dmytri is speechless, fearing that if he says anything else, she might bury him into a deeper hole that he placed himself into, to being with.

"You know what? I don't want to talk about this anymore. I think I've made my point." She collects her belongings and struts out, indignation pouring out of her demeanor.

"How'd it go then? She said yes right? She'll do it?" Vladmir looked so hopeful that Dmytri didn't have the heart to contradict him at that moment.


End file.
